Stay
by starkblast
Summary: Both agents' thoughts during the final scene of Orison. Afterward, Scully struggles with her fears and Mulder dwells on almost having lost her. Together they recover from the ordeal, unavoidably evolving their partnership emotionally and physically.
1. Chapter 1

Post-ep to Orison, starting with both agent's thoughts during the final bit with Donnie. Started as a one-shot but got completely out of hand. Going to release in chapters in case it's too long or ridiculous. If nobody reviews I'll just keep adding installments, but hearing whether or not I got too carried away would be nice.

Of course these two aren't mine. Neither is Donnie. Spoilers for Irresistable and Orison only, I think.

Tired from being on the road for the past several days and glad to be back in his own apartment, Fox Mulder slipped his shoes off at the door, tossing his suit jacket over the arm of his couch and making straight for the bathroom.

For once, he had little difficulty taking his mind off the case he'd been on; local PD had taken over and would soon have their fugitive back behind bars. Evidence that there was nothing unnatural about the disappearances of the prisoners had meant that the agents had been able to return home, for once, without incident or injury.

He knew that his partner was still struggling emotionally with this case, even though she denied it at every chance. Scully's discomfort was as obvious to him as the color shirt she was wearing, but he knew that she hated the idea of seeming vulnerable or weak to him, so Mulder didn't press the issue. He was just glad that they had left Donnie Pfaster and his victims behind before they could haunt her any more. She was safe at home in her bed by now, and he had every intention of following suit.

Mulder stripped down to his undershirt and swapped his slacks for sweatpants, tossing them in the corner before rummaging in the bathroom cupboard for his toothbrush.

While he brushed, he wandered into the bedroom, making sure to set his alarm for the next work day. As he moved through the numbers, the bedside radio clock glitched and a snatch of song played. Mulder froze, certain of what he had heard, but switching back to it anyway. "Don't look any further'' drifted from the radio, and he recalled Scully telling him that it was a sign.

Though a staunch believer in many things, Fox Mulder wasn't one to see signs from God; nevertheless he thought the coincidence was a little spooky. He went back to the bathroom to rinse before calling Scully- just to make sure everything was okay.

Terror and adrenaline coursed through her as the closet door clicked shut, leaving her in darkness. She knew all too well, from the bodies of his other victims and from her own experience years ago, what would happen to her if she didn't find a way to escape, and quickly.

The phone began to ring from the other room, and Scully knew instantly who was trying to reach her. Mulder was the only person who called at this time of night; maybe he suspected something was wrong. Surely when she didn't answer, he'd be on his way over to check on her.

From the living room, "Don't look any further" began to play on her stereo. Scully wanted to scream. She didn't dare hope that Mulder would get here in time; she had to get to her gun.

No answer. Mulder felt a growing sense of panic rise in his chest. She couldn't have fallen asleep that quickly. After a moment, the need to know she was alright won out over the thought that maybe he was being a bit paranoid and possessive. As he reached for the phone again to try her cell, Mulder saw the blinking light on his answering machine. Quickly he played back the message from the young detective. Before it even finished he was headed for the door. He slipped his shoes back on, grabbed his gun and checked the clip, then ran for the elevator.

 _Scully._ He got in his car and peeled out, headed for her apartment. He ran a red light. Red, the message had said. Pfaster had hired a call girl specifically with red hair. Red like Scully's.

 _He's been fixated on her this whole time_ , Mulder thought, feeling sick. He almost hadn't made it in time the first time Scully had been Pfaster's captive; another minute and she'd have been dead. He prayed he'd have the same luck now. _Hang on Scully, I'm almost there. Fight him._

Scully rolled under the bed just as Donnie Pfaster walked through the bedroom. He gave a cursory glance to the closet door; she had shut it behind her, so he kept walking. Heart pounding in her chest, she squirmed under the bed, hindered by her bound wrists and ankles. The gun was just on the other side. Emerging, she struggled to twist onto her side, having to hold still again as Pfaster walked past once more. When he was gone, she strained her arms down to pull her legs through, bringing her tied wrists out in front of her; even without full mobility, now she could at least fire her gun.

She heard him turn the water off in the bathroom and knew she was out of time.

Barely feeling the pain, she army-crawled across the shattered glass from her dresser mirror. Her hands closed around the familiar pistol, and keeping it trained on the door, she struggled to untie herself.

Mulder crept quickly but silently down the hall to Scully's apartment. Careful to not rattle the handle, he tried the door. It was unlocked. He pushed it slowly open, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he became immediately aware of a shadowy figure just feet in front of him.

Mulder drew his gun on Pfaster, shouting for him to put his hands up. There was no sign of Scully.

 _Where is she?_ He thought desperately, even as he held his gun on the man in front of him, cold and commanding on the outside. Inside, his pulse was racing and his stomach felt like a hollow pit.

He'd been here once before, only to snatch Scully from beneath the twisted man just as he trained his gun on her. He'd seen his normally unbreakable partner implode even after her ordeal was over. He was terrified now at how he'd find her; alive, and painfully scarred? Or, unthinkably...still and silent, mutilated; floating in the bathtub filled with her own blood.

He grabbed Pfaster by the shoulder, pushing his gun closer, trying to keep hold of himself. He just had to get this guy in cuffs so he could find Scully.

Before he had had a chance to do anything further, he saw her emerge slowly from the bedroom. Intense, overwhelming relief washed over him at the sight of her. She was ruffled and bloody, but she was on her own two feet; she was alive.

Mulder hardly had time to process these emotions before something struck him as wrong. She hadn't met his eyes; they were trained on Donnie Pfaster with a look he had only seen a couple of times. Scully looked dangerous; her rational thinking and calm reason gone. He saw the gun in her hand and knew that he couldn't stop her. He wouldn't.

The gunshot tore through the quiet building like thunder, and Donnie Pfaster was no more.

Mulder lowered his gun slowly, staring in a daze at Scully. She stood unmoving, unreadable.

"Scully," He said finally, stepping around the body between them to take her by the arms. She seemed to be in a dull state of shock. He gently pried the gun from her hand and guided her slowly into the other room.

Sensing that she wasn't ready to talk, Mulder left her on the couch, pulling out his cell phone to alert the police. He also left a message on Skinner's answering machine. He briefly thought about calling Maggie Scully, but decided it could wait till morning. Instead, he went to the kitchen, coming back with a warm, damp washcloth. He knelt on the floor in front of Scully and silently, gently, he went about cleaning the blood from her wounds. He dabbed the wet cloth over her bloody nose and cut lip, then took her hands in his, carefully working the bonds from her wrists. Mulder's jaw clenched as he saw that Pfaster had tied Scully's hands with a pair of her own nylon pantyhose. He untied the gag that she had slipped down around her neck.

As he worked, she stared straight ahead at a point just over his shoulder. Mulder bit his tongue, trying to give her space. But as he glanced from her bloodied lip to her dull and distant eyes, Mulder felt himself begin to crack. He couldn't bear to think of what she had been through this night. He knew that even if she could deal with it, he could not.

"Scully." He brought one hand to her face, drawing it down her cheek and behind her neck. The other he tipped under her chin, tracing his thumb gently over her swollen lower lip. She continued to stare ahead, although tears had started to pool in her eyes. He pressed his forehead to hers, taking a deep breath, trying to lend her what strength he had.

Scully finally moved, taking a shaky breath with him and gripping his arm tightly. "I'm okay, Mulder."

Mulder took a trembling breath, holding her as tightly as he dared without fear of causing further harm. She pressed against him with a similar desperation, relaying the thoughts she wasn't ready to speak aloud.

He couldn't speak either. He held her tightly, hoping that she would understand.

After a moment, she gave way into his arms and he held her firmly to his chest. He expected her to break down into sobs first but somehow he felt his own chest tighten with emotion as she held still against him.

"Scully," He choked, trying desperately to pull his fingers from her hair. She didn't need the extra burden of his fear and hurt right now. But he couldn't help himself, and only clutched her tighter. How could he have been so careless? How could he have let this happen again? He forced back a sob as he held her against him.

After a long, heavy moment, a knock came at the door. Mulder took a breath, composing himself. Scully squeezed his hand hard, terrified to face what had happened. Needing no further sign, he kissed her cheek and stood to answer the door for her.

From there the night passed in a blur. Both agents answered questions almost in a trance, still not sure what had pushed Scully over the edge to pull the trigger. Fiercely protective of his partner, Mulder did his best to paint a portrait of Pfaster that gave Scully no choice but terminal force self-defense, though even he still did not know entirely what had happened here. At one point, mid-interrogation by a local police officer, Scully tugged on his sleeve. He lowered his ear to the level of her lips, where she whispered simply, "bathroom". Mulder bristled momentarily as he realized what her request was, but kept his cool and forced a tiny smile before slipping away.

One of the local department guys was rooting around in the bathroom until Mulder gave him a look that suggested he get out. Once the room was empty, Mulder tried to keep himself distanced as he went about putting out all the candles and hiding them from sight. It was difficult; he kept seeing crime scene photos of Pfaster's victims, but with Scully's face. Gingerly, he reached in to pull the stopper from the tub to let the bubbly water drain. When he was satisfied that the bathroom was the way it normally was, Mulder stepped back to the living room, gently touching Scully's back to let her know he was finished. She gave him a look of sincere appreciation and stepped away from her conversation with the officer.

Mulder took over answering questions for her as she snuck away to the bathroom. About twenty minutes later she emerged with a heavy blanket around her shoulders and slipped quietly back to the bedroom. Mulder quickly excused himself and followed her, shutting the door behind them.

"If you pack some things we can get out of here," He said, hoping she wanted, as he did, to be far away from here for a while. She didn't answer, and he saw that she held her bedside bible in her hands. She looked at it, contemplative. Troubled.

"You can't judge yourself," He said quietly, coming to stand next to her.

She sat down on the bed heavily. It was just about only thing in the bedroom to have survived the violent struggle earlier that night. "Maybe I won't have to." She set the bible down, sighing.

Mulder looked down at her, the ghost of a smile on his lips. She was so good, so truly human, and yet always wanted to think otherwise. He loved her so much for it. But he knew she was hurting.

"The bible allows for vengeance," He offered, lacking in any further advice in the realm of faith.

"But the law doesn't," she dodged.

Mulder resisted the urge to grab her hand. "The way I see it, he didn't give you a choice," He said firmly. "And my report will reflect that, in case you're worried." As if he would say anything else. "Donnie Pfaster would have surely killed again if given the chance."

Scully looked at her lap. "He was evil, Mulder, I'm sure of that without a doubt. There's just one thing I'm not sure of."

He looked at her. "What's that?"

"Who was at work in me? Or what? What made me...what made me pull the trigger?"

Mulder tried to put his mind where hers must be. "You mean if it was god?" He asked, uncertain.

"I mean...what if it wasn't?"

Mulder looked at her for a long moment. "Scully, I refuse to believe that any malignant force could ever work through you," He said softly. "And at any rate, the world is a safer place with Donnie Pfaster dead. He'll never hurt you, or any other women again."

He took her hand, rubbing his thumb gently across her knuckles. "I'm glad you did it," He said, solemnly meeting her eyes. "We barely got you out that first time. And knowing that he'd been fixated on you for five years...I wouldn't want to test him a third time. I wouldn't want to take any chances that he could get to you again."

Scully held his gaze for a moment, giving him a tiny smile of thanks. Then she stood, going to the closet to pack some clothes.

Mulder stood quietly back, surveying the damage to the once-pristine bedroom. When Scully was finished he picked up the suitcase and followed her out, one hand hovering lightly at the small of her back.

They drove in exhausted silence to Mulder's apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

In the elevator up to the fourth floor, Scully leaned tiredly against her partner. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her gently against his side.

It had been been a long, sleepless night for them both. By the time to they stepped into Mulder's apartment, it was almost 8:00 am.

Mulder took Scully's suitcase into the bedroom and then stepped back into the living room.

"I know you probably just want to get some sleep, but I really think you should let me take a look at you."

Scully had refused to let the paramedics touch her, remaining in her ripped and bloody pajamas throughout the night. She was doing a good job of hiding it, but Mulder could tell from the delicate way she held herself that Scully was hurting.

To his surprise, she nodded her consent. "It's hard to tell, but I feel like I might be full of broken glass," she said, sitting down on the couch with a wince. "I just...I didn't want anyone else touching me."

"I know," He said softly. He didn't want anyone else touching her either after what happened. "I'll be right back."

Mulder went to the bathroom, coming back with his first aid kit, some hand towels, and a bottle of peroxide. He set it all down on the coffee table and sat next to her. She unbuttoned her shirt and he helped her slip out of it, trying to be modest about where his eyes fell. Scully turned sideways on the couch, showing him her back. A large, purple bruise was beginning to blossom between her shoulder blades, and around it her porcelain skin was marred by a smattering of angry red cuts.

"Scully, you should have had me take care of this sooner," Mulder said, his voice pained. "What happened?"

"He threw me into the dresser mirror," Scully replied tensely. "It's not that bad, just make sure there's no glass in any of the cuts and clean them out."

Mulder leaned in closer to inspect, running his fingers as lightly as he could over her bare back. In one of the larger cuts he spotted a small fragment. He reached for the tweezers, steadying his hand against her back.

"There's a piece here, hold still." As delicately as he could, Mulder picked it out of the open cut. Scully hissed sharply, tensing beneath his hands.

"Sorry, Scully." He dropped the fragment onto a piece of newspaper on the table.

Several more shards of mirror later, Mulder soaked a cloth with peroxide and began to gently clean the blood away. Scully bit back a groan, clenching her hand into a fist. Mulder loosened her fingers with his free hand, offering it to her to hold. She took it and squeezed tightly as he continued wiping the searing antiseptic across her back.

He finished by dabbing ointment on the cuts and bandaging a few of the larger ones.

Her arms received similar treatment, though they were not cut as badly.

When he was done, Scully found a fresh set of pajamas in her suitcase and went to the bathroom to change. Mulder slipped into the bedroom to tidy up. He gathered all the dirty laundry and stuffed it in a basket in the closet, then straightened the bed sheets.

When he was satisfied that the room was suitable for female inhabitation, he turned to go back to the living room, only to find Scully standing in the doorway, watching him with a faint smile on her lips.

"Um...I got the room ready for you," Mulder said, running a hand through his hair subconsciously the way he always did when he felt awkward. "Skinner wants us both to take the day off, so you can sleep all afternoon if you want. I'm gonna nap on the couch then work on my report later."

He moved past her into the living room. "I don't have much in the way of edible food, but we can order a pizza later or something."

"Thanks, Mulder."

He nodded, giving her a small smile. "I'll be right here if you need anything."

Scully curled up on the bed, leaving the door open so Mulder could see her from the other room if he poked his head around. He stretched out on the couch, totally comfortable; before he mysteriously acquired a bed, he'd slept here every night.

On opposite sides of the wall, they lay silently, each trying to slow their thoughts enough to sleep.

Mulder stared at the ceiling, fighting the urge to look around the corner into the bedroom.

Scully curled into a tight ball under the covers, clutching a pillow to her chest and trying not to think about what had happened. She breathed deeply, finding some small comfort in the familiar smell of her partner on his blankets.

After about an hour, Mulder got up to go to the bathroom. On the way back to the couch, he stopped in the doorway to the bedroom, gazing in at Scully. All that was visible was her red hair peeking above the covers. He stood there for a moment, thinking she was asleep.

After a moment, she poked her head up. "Mulder?"

"Sorry," He mumbled, turning to go. "I was just...checking on you."

She sat up, calling after him. "Mulder," she said, meeting his eyes with barely disguised desperation. "Stay. Please."

Mulder looked at her for a moment, feeling like he would be taking advantage of her state of mind if he appealed to her wishes. But before several seconds passed, he crossed the room, slipping beneath the covers and taking her into his arms. She snuggled slowly back against him and he tightened his hold on her, snaking his arm around her waist.

It took all of his willpower not to crush her tightly to his chest, holding on with the desperation he'd been fighting since the moment he'd realized she was in danger. Instead he nuzzled gently into her hair, careful not to press too hard against her lacerated back.

Scully felt a little guilty for showing Mulder her vulnerability and bringing him in here to comfort her like a scared child, but enveloped in his arms she finally felt safe. Slowly, her anxiety melted away and exhaustion took over. Before long she drifted to sleep.

Mulder listened as her breathing slowed, becoming deeper and more regular. For him, it was harder to turn off his thoughts.

If Pfaster hadn't been so dedicated to his sick theatrics, if he had acted just a few minutes sooner...Scully wouldn't have had time to reach her gun, and Mulder would have walked into her apartment moments too late as her warm red blood filled the bathtub. It would have driven him insane. In all likelihood he would have put a dozen rounds in Donnie Pfaster without a second thought, and then one in his own skull.

Mulder shuddered at how close it had been. He was used to both their lives being in constant danger, and he had experienced the pain of thinking he'd lost her several times already.

But this was different.

Mulder knew no one more fearless than his partner, and her experiences with Donnie Pfaster terrified her more than he had ever seen. Holding her as she fell apart after the ordeal five years ago, Mulder had felt his heart break. That was the first moment that he knew he would give his life to keep her safe.

Mulder held her just a little bit tighter. In her sleep, Scully mumbled contentedly. Focusing on her rhythmic breathing, proof that she was alive and safe, he eventually relaxed and fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

In her dream, Dana Scully was relaxing. The steam from the bath rose around her and fogged on the outside of her wine glass, making it slippery in her hand. On the sink ledge she had lit several candles, and a soft vanilla scent drifted from them through the bathroom. As she watched them flicker, one by one the flames sputtered and died. Scully started to get up to relight them, and the wine glass slipped from her hand, spilling into the tub. Dark red liquid mixed with the bubbles and water. Suddenly she was afraid- something wasn't right. She blinked, and then the wine was no longer wine; it was blood, streaming from the place where her finger had been severed. Looking up, she saw the horribly familiar face of a man who was holding a pair of scissors and a knife. She tried to scream but he grabbed her by the throat, forcing her head under the water. Her scream came out as burst of bubbles and water filled her mouth, tasting of soap and copper. Through the rippling red haze, she saw him grin down at her.

Scully woke with a cry, gasping for breath as she struggled upright. For a few moments she was trapped in utter terror before she recognized Mulder's bedroom and realized she was having nightmares.

"Shhh, Scully," She felt his hand cautiously at her back, rubbing gentle circles. "Hey. It's okay, you're safe."

After a moment she sank back down, turning to face him. Wordlessly, she buried her face in the front of his shirt, trying to control her breathing.

"Shhhh..." He said again, and kissed the top of her head lightly. He wrapped his arms around her once more, pulling her closer as she clutched at his chest. He felt her body shake with quiet sobs. "He's gone, Scully. He isn't coming back for you again. You're safe here. I won't let anyone hurt you."

He murmured comforting words into her hair for a long time, caressing her cheek and wiping tears away with his thumb. Finally, they drifted back to sleep again. This time, it was a dreamless sleep.

When Scully woke, she felt groggy and sore from having slept for so long, coupled with the growing aches from her struggle. She snuggled back down into the covers for a moment, not wanting to have to move just yet. She rolled over, hoping to find Mulder's arms again, but he was not in the bed. Blinking away her sleepiness, Scully sat up. The bedroom door was open, but there was no sign of him. The apartment was still and quiet. By the faint, cold light coming through the curtains, she guessed it was early morning, meaning that they had slept all day and through the night. Looking around, she saw that in his place on the bed next to her, Mulder had left a note. She picked it up, a fond smile spreading across her face.

 _Scully, I'm hoping you stay asleep till I get back, but if not, don't be alarmed. I just went out to find us some breakfast. Be back soon._

Setting the note back on the bed, Scully stretched and climbed out, headed for the bathroom. As nice as it had been to stay with him all night, she was grateful for his momentary disappearance; she wasn't used to sharing a living space and needed some time alone. She grabbed an outfit from her suitcase as well as her bag of toiletries, then went to shower.

The hot water felt indescribably good on her sore muscles, though it stung a bit on her cuts. Scully stood under the stream for far longer than necessary, letting it wash away the pain and the fear she had felt over the past couple of days.

Going through her bag of trial-sized soaps, Scully realized that in her distress she hadn't grabbed any shampoo. Instead, she reached for Mulder's bottle, popping the cap to take a sniff. The smell was familiar and earthy, not too offensive like most male hygiene products. She squeezed some into her palm and lathered it into her hair.

Mulder slipped quietly back into the apartment, a brown paper bag tucked under his arm and two paper coffee cups balanced precariously in one hand. He glanced into the open bedroom, seeing ruffled sheets but no Scully. Setting his keys down and heading for the kitchen, he heard water running in the bathroom.

He grabbed a couple of plates from the kitchen cupboard and settled down on the couch, unwrapping two bagel sandwiches from the brown bag. He took a bite of one and sat back to sip his coffee.

A few minutes later, Scully emerged from the bathroom, hair still a little damp but otherwise looking her usual put-together self in a navy blazer, tan undershirt, and a skirt that matched her jacket.

"Good morning," he said with a slight smile as she came to sit next to him on the couch. He smelled the faint scent of his shampoo that lingered in her hair and fought the urge to stare at her the way he sometimes did when she wasn't paying attention.

"Morning," she replied, returning his smile and reaching for the closest coffee cup.

"I know you don't usually do the breakfast thing," Mulder explained as Scully delicately tucked her legs up on the couch, settling one of the bagel plates in her lap. "But we never woke up to eat that pizza last night, so I figured you'd be pretty hungry." He watched her as she took a not-so-delicate bite, chuckling softly. "I guess I was right."

Scully held a hand over her mouth, slightly embarrassed. "You were," she admitted when she had finished chewing. "The last time I ate was before we got back on the plane on Wednesday. Thanks."

Mulder nodded and they finished their breakfasts in silence. He cleared the plates and tossed the bag and bagel wrappings in the trash, then grabbed his coat and turned to Scully.

"You ready?" The question was meant on several levels. He looked down into her eyes, conveying wordless reassurance and searching her for any signs of distress. She looked back up at him with heavy eyes, trying to smile. She did not want to do this, but she would, and she'd be alright. Together they left the apartment.


	4. Chapter 4

With no new cases since Pfaster's escape, the agents spent the day drawing up their report for Skinner. Mulder did most of the work, but painfully for both of them, he had to have Scully recount in detail the events of the night before he'd found her.

Afterward, while Mulder typed up the summary they'd agreed on, Scully retreated to a corner of the office with a mug of tea and called her mother. She hated telling her family about the dangers that befell her in the line of duty, but the last thing she needed was for Maggie Scully to see her daughter's name in the paper, since surely it had been reported by now that the serial killer was dead.

Mrs. Scully had become hardened to this kind of news over the years of her daughter's involvement at the FBI, as well as the more recent loss of her husband and daughter. She listened to Dana's brief account of what had happened, relieved that her daughter was alive, but not pushing the issue or demanding any details. She did, however, insist on meeting later for dinner. Scully graciously consented and hung up the phone.

"Alright, I think we're about finished," Mulder said from the desk, piling files and papers together. "Let's go talk to Skinner and call it an early day."

Scully nodded, letting him put an arm around her shoulder as they walked to the elevator.

When they'd finished making their report, Walter Skinner looked between his two agents, satisfied with their professional findings, but troubled and concerned on a personal level. He glanced at Agent Scully, able to see easily after six years of a close working relationship that she was hurting, uncomfortable, and doing her best to appear strong.

She met his eyes, daring him to question that strength. Skinner knew better; any sympathy directed at Scully would be met with a wall of icy professionalism. Instead he shifted his gaze to Mulder, only to find that the agent was staring distractly sideways at his partner, protective concern etched into his features, oblivious to the Assistant Director's attentions. Skinner straightened up, gathering the files and tucking them away in his desk.

"Alright, thanks you two," he said, standing. The agents followed suit. "Scully, if you need to take it easy for a few days-"

"I'll be fine, sir," she said, forcing a smile. "Thank you."

She strode to the door and slipped out. Mulder moved to follow her, one hand reaching instinctively as she passed him.

Skinner sighed. God, Mulder didn't even know how bad he had it for her. It was painful, almost, watching them interact after a close call like this, and close calls seemed to happen with this particular pair every week. Sometimes Skinner felt like the high school principal who had caught two A-students kissing in the hall. Mostly, though, he envied them.

"Mulder, hold on a second," he said before Mulder could follow his partner out of the office.

"I can tell Agent Scully is not in a good place right now. I assume this doesn't need saying, but look after her this week."

Mulder nodded solemnly. "Always, sir."

When Mulder stepped out of the office, he saw the Scully had waited for him by the door. She fell into step beside him and they made their way slowly to the elevator.

"I, um….I'm going home to have dinner with my mom tonight," Scully said as they waited for the elevator to come down from the tenth floor. They both knew the other was thinking about Scully's overnight bag still sitting on the floor of Mulder's bedroom.

Mulder looked down at her, trying not to let his face show disappointment or concern. "Home to your apartment?" he asked, letting the unspoken part of the question hang between them.

"Yeah, the cleaning lady called me earlier," Scully said, avoiding his gaze. "With the exception of needing some new furniture, the place is back to normal."

Mulder nodded. "Well, I'll drive you home then." They rode the elevator in silence and didn't speak again till they were in front of Scully's apartment.

"Tell your mom I said hi," Mulder said with half a smile.

"I will," she said, opening the car door. "Thanks for the ride."

Mulder nodded, looking away. As she got out and walked away he bit his lip, then rolled down the window.

"Scully," he called after her, and she stopped, turning. "I know this is silly, but….will you call me later? Just to check in?"

Scully nodded, smiling a little. "Yeah."

She walked up the steps to her apartment, and Mulder drove home.


	5. Chapter 5

Outside, it was just starting to get dark, but the fading light did little to illuminate Mulder's apartment. As was the case on many Friday nights, he found himself sitting on the couch under the glow of some sitcom rerun playing on the TV, eating distractedly from a takeout container in his lap. Tonight, his nerves were running a little high, so he'd thrown a beer into the mix as well.

After his initial disappointment when he had parted ways with Scully earlier, he was glad to have some time to himself. He'd needed time to think, to process the events of the past several days. That, and to fall back into his usual 'messy bachelor' habits for a while without having to worry about what she thought of him.

But it was almost 8:30 now; he had dropped her off at home over five hours ago. He was starting to get antsy.

He glanced from the TV to the phone, trying not to wonder why she hadn't called yet. Maybe dinner with her mom had turned into drinks and heart-to-heart conversation. Maybe she'd just decided to go to bed, still tired and sore from her ordeal. Maybe she'd just forgotten. He tried to tell himself that the latter was most likely, but it also stung the most.

As he stared at the tv, not watching or seeing but brooding over his thoughts, he almost missed the quiet knock at his door. He listened for a second, sure his hopeful imagination had conjured the sound. But it came again, three short raps. He stood to open the door, and felt his rejection and anxiety melt away as he found her beautiful doe eyes nervously staring up at him on the other side.

He simply stared at her for a moment, trying to keep himself in check till she explained her sudden appearance.

Scully shuffled awkwardly in place for a moment. "Would you..." she started, dragging her eyes up from the floor to meet his. "Would you mind if I stayed with you again?"

Mulder broke into a relieved smile, pulling her forward into his arms for a brief hug. "Scully," He said, half laughing at the obvious absurdity of her request. He pulled back, holding her at arm's length and looking genuinely down at her. "Of course not. Come in."

He shut the door behind them and lead her to the couch. They sat down, and after a few moments of trying to watch tv, found themselves staring at one another in comfortable silence.

"Sorry I didn't call," Scully said finally. She pulled her legs up on the couch, turning to face him.

Mulder shook his head slightly and turned his body to her as well. "It's ok," he said, studying her face. "But I'm glad you came. I was starting to get a little worried about you."

Scully made no reply, instead looking down at the stray thread at her shirt hem that she'd realized she was fidgeting with.

Mulder decided not to push her for more. "How's your mom?"

Scully looked back up at him, grateful for the change in topic. "She's good. She said I should have invited you to dinner."

Mulder chuckled, gesturing to his greasy takeout. "What, and deprive me of this?"

Scully smiled. "It was good to see her, though," she continued. "She always knows how to be...comforting, without being overbearing."

"Your mother is a wonderful woman," Mulder agreed. "You're very lucky."

He reached for his beer and took a sip, then raised his eyebrows at Scully. "Want one?"

"No, thanks," she started, shaking her head. Then she made a face to herself. _Why not?_ "I...you know what, yes. I could use a beer."

Mulder grinned at her antics, then went went to the fridge to grab them a fresh round. He popped the caps before handing her one and sitting down. Wordlessly, they clinked their bottles together and took a sip.

Scully grabbed the remote from off the table and started flipping through channels. Eventually she came to a movie that looked decent and left it on. She made herself comfortable, leaning slightly into Mulder's side.

He glanced down at her, saying nothing, but after a minute he lifted his arm so she could scoot closer. A bemused smile spread across his face; seeing her not only open up to such casual affection, but be the one to initiate it, was completely disarming. He let his arm settle behind her neck and started unconsciously rubbing her shoulder with his thumb.

Turning his attention to the movie that was playing, Mulder thought of how bizarre this seemed in the context of their usual time together. He wondered, somewhat sadly, what it would be like to have a normal life. _The grass is always greener_ , he thought, dismissing his pointless curiosities. He let his head fall gently onto Scully's, letting go of such thoughts and letting himself get sucked into the fantasy that was a regular weekend with a beautiful woman.


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry this chapter took so much longer than the others! I've been camping for over a week and its a little hard to upload in the woods. Also, i'm starting to feel uncertain about the direction this is going. I can't tell if i should let it get as um...intense..as originally intended, or end it more true to character with some more PG type stuff. As a result, it ends kind of mid-scene. Review with your thoughts!

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The movie had bled over into several other, less - entertaining programmes since the first, but Scully had barely noticed. She'd nestled herself more deeply against her partner throughout the night, at first relishing his reciprocation, then later realizing that he was falling asleep. Not tired herself, she'd stayed in place as he slept, not wanting to wake him. However, when the night had passed and Mulder remained firmly asleep on her shoulder, she started to extract herself from his grasp.

He mumbled quietly as she tipped him off her arm and onto the side of the couch. She was debating just leaving him there and retreating to the bedroom when he clasped her arm gently. "Scully," He murmured before settling more comfortably onto the couch. She waited for a moment then realized with a flush that he was simply talking in his sleep.

She studied his sleeping form for a moment. His features were youthful and relaxed, free of the pain and stress she almost always saw in him. His arms were partially crossed over his lean but muscular chest, one hand still trailing loosely over her arm.

As she looked down at her partner, her heart swelled almost painfully with affection for him.

He had feared or suspected her predicament strongly enough to run to her in the middle of the night; not that this was surprising. He was always one step ahead of her and the other investigators. Even if he ran the risk of seeming paranoid or crazy, he'd fly to her side on a hunch without so much as a second thought. Several times, this had saved her life. When he was with her, no matter the case, he was always supportive and trusting. Even though she questioned him and doubted his theories at every turn, he always took what she had to say seriously.

Though she didn't quite know how to show it, she was eternally grateful for his support these past few days. It was easy to tell that in some ways this had hurt him as much as it did her, but he did a good job of suppressing his emotions and staying calm, handling all of the less pleasant aspects so she didn't have to. He'd been doing his best not to seem too protective of her, but she could tell he did not want to leave her side for a second, and for once she welcomed his fervent hovering.

She reached down to gently run a hand through his hair, stroking his cheek and coming to rest on his shoulder. He made a soft noise of contentment.

"Mulder," she said quietly, giving his shoulder a small squeeze. Always a light sleeper, and particularly more so with his 'look after Scully' instincts on high, he blinked awake and looked up at her. For a moment he just smiled, but then he got ahold of himself and looked around, sitting up. The clock read 11:50.

"Movie's over?" he asked somewhat groggily.

"Yeah, all three of them," Scully said, her amused smile playing in her voice. "Let's go to bed."

The tv was now just playing terrible late-night infomercials. She switched it off and went to the bedroom to change. Her overnight bag from last night was still on the floor next to his nightstand. Not sure how long she'd be away, she had packed herself several days' worth of clothes. She slipped out of her day clothes and bra and put them in the suitcase in place of a second set of pajamas. The oversized bottoms pooled around her feet, several inches too long. As she went to pull the heavy flannel top over her arms, she felt a gentle touch at her back. Scully held still, looking back over her shoulder but not turning away from him. His careful fingers ran over her shoulder blades and down her spine.

"These seem to be healing up well," Mulder said quietly, his thumb tracing the edge of her bruise, carefully avoiding all the dull red scabs. Scully closed her eyes under his touch. After a moment, Mulder swallowed the urge to go further, instead helping her into her pajama top. He moved around to the other side of the bed, dressing down to his boxers and undershirt before climbing in under the covers. Scully followed suit, leaving the bedside lamp on and pulling the blankets up over her chest. She rolled onto her side to face him, fixing her eyes on his face until he did the same. He stared at her solemnly, reverently. She reached for him under the covers and found his hand already outstretched. Their fingers locked.

"Mulder," Scully said quietly. "Thank you for taking care of me." She gripped his hand tightly. "I never would have survived this if not for you."

He knew she didn't mean physically. But he shook his head, not willing to let his partner sell herself short. "You would have," he said quietly. "But I'm glad I could help. I will _always_ be here to help."

She gave him a teary smile and pulled herself closer to him. Mulder pressed his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

"Scully, I don't know what I would do if I lost you," he whispered. "It's something I think about a lot. Something I've had to think about far too many times. With all that we've been through, you'd think I'd start to get used to it, but this…..this terrified me, Scully. If he had...if you-"

He broke off, pulling his hand free to hold her face, stroking his thumb across her cheek. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"I'm not going anywhere, Mulder," she said, gripping his arm and pushing back to look into his eyes. "And neither are you. We look after each other."

She took his face in her hands, suddenly very sure of one thing: "We're going to be okay."

He gave her a grateful smile, awed, as always, by her resilience. Her eyes, pained and confused and frightened as they had been for the past several days, were now alight with blazing determination. _That's my Scully_ , he thought. Her passion was contagious, and Mulder found himself drawing her face back to his, moving his lips against hers with a gentle intensity.

He went slowly, trying to keep his desire in check. Her lips were soft and tasted slightly like cinnamon. After a moment he paused, breathing her in. He pulled back a fraction of an inch, holding her only lightly in case she wanted to pull away.

She sensed his restraint, and understood it. Despite the feelings they knew they shared, Scully had always been hesitant to act on them physically. She didn't even know why; there was no doubt that she wanted him. Perhaps she was afraid that if they became more involved, it would be that much more devastating for the other if anything happened to one of them.

But, Scully realized, things _had_ happened to them. Time and again, they faced pain and loss and mortal danger together. Why shouldn't they allow themselves to be comforted by one another's love- because it was love; she had known for some time now that she would never love another person as fiercely, as wholly as she loved her partner. And she knew that he felt the same. The only thing stopping him from telling her every day was his respect for her reasoning.

Stung by her lack of response, Mulder sighed and went to pull away. "Scully..." He started to apologize. Scully tightened her hold, keeping him there. She slid one hand behind his neck, the other resting along his jaw. She traced the curve of his lips with her thumb. He closed his eyes, trying to suppress the shudder of raw electricity he felt at her touch.

Before he had a chance to say that he was sorry for assuming too much, that he wouldn't need to be told no a third time, her lips crushed against his. Desire quickly overrode his surprise and Mulder kissed her back, one hand twining in her hair. Their lips parted and Mulder tasted sweet cinnamon once more. Fire raced through his veins and he pushed against her, pulling at her bottom lip with his teeth. Scully let out a soft moan that made him instantly hard.

It took all his willpower not to tear off the clothes he'd just helped her into, but his lust for her came second to his love. Scully didn't want this; she'd dodged his advances enough times to get that point across. But she was a caretaker, and if she saw that he was hurting she'd give him what he needed. He couldn't take the chance that she was doing that now. Groaning, Mulder extracted himself from her grasp, pulling away from her warm body and cinnamon mouth.

"Scully, wait," He said as she tried to pull him back. She stared at him with genuine confusion.

"Don't...don't do this for me. I know sometimes I can't help myself and cross the line, but having you here, knowing you're safe, is enough. It really is."

Her answering gaze was intense, almost angry.

"Mulder, I'm doing this for both of us. I'm tired of running from this. You know that I love you. I don't know what I was afraid of, but I'm not anymore." As she spoke the words, she knew she believed them. They were for each other.

He stared back into her eyes, a smile spreading slowly across his face. He had never heard her say those words before. Yes, he knew it- they'd both been able to convey their love without words for a long time. But hearing her say it was different.

"Scully," He whispered, half a laugh. "I didn't think I could love you more."

She smiled back, her eyes full of the same overwhelming devotion he felt. Slowly, delicately, she pressed her lips to his once more. Mulder closed his eyes, letting her lead.


	7. Chapter 7

She kissed him slowly at first, tasting him, relishing the moment. But as her fingers ran unconsciously through his hair air, her tender kiss came harder, demanding more.

His hand went to her waist, slipping beneath her shirt to pull her hips against his. Her skin was porcelain smooth, but soft and warm. Scully pressed back against him, hooking one leg around his. Her hand on his chest pushed heavily against his raised shoulder, and Mulder let her roll him onto his back, gently lifting her waist as she moved with him. With one hand he pulled the covers off them, letting the heavy blankets fall to the floor. Very little cloth separated her from his obvious arousal as she straddled his hips.

Keeping his hands at her waist, Mulder stared up at his partner, breathless. He would never be able to get enough of her, not if they spent all their lives together. Scully leaned forward, bracing one hand behind his head as she hovered over his chest. She brought her lips to within inches of his, then stopped, waiting.

The tease was too much; Mulder slid one hand up her back, tipping her forward and accosting her coy smirk with his mouth, dragging her back to him with his tongue and his teeth. She let him hold her there, sliding her free hand up beneath his shirt. As his partner and his doctor, Scully was no stranger to Fox Mulder's body, and for some time now she had itched to run her hands over his lean and muscled chest.

He felt her fingernails scrape gently over his abdomen and ribs, invoking a clenching in his stomach and a quickening of his pulse. Crunching forward, hands still on her hips, he lifted his torso off the bed to sit upright. Scully shifted, wrapping her calves around his waist and pushing her hands further up his warm, heaving chest. He lifted his arms slightly to let her pull the thin cotton t-shirt over his head. He saw the need in her eyes as she took in his near-nakedness and his stomach clenched again. Taking her face almost roughly in his hands, he kissed her with bruising force, brushing her hair aside to work hungrily down her neck. Scully let out another almost-moan and Mulder's hands flew to the front of her shirt, working quickly through the buttons.

After a moment it joined his on the floor and Scully sat on his lap, nude from the waist up. His hands went back to her hips, grinding her against him before letting his fingers trace up her sides, brushing along her breasts. He hiked her up a little bit on his lap, so that her head was just above level with his. Then he resumed kissing down her neck, softly but desperately trailing down to her breast.

Scully gasped as he took her nipple in his mouth, her arousal intensifying. She wrapped her legs tighter around him, pressing her pelvis and chest close against him, craving the feel of their bare skin together. Suddenly he wrapped a hand under her thigh, flipping her sideways off of him, while he rolled back on top of her. Scully's breaths came heavy as she felt the intoxicating weight of his body pressing down on her. He held back just far enough to look into her face, silently asking permission. Her answering gaze was smoldering. They'd waited long enough. She licked her lips unconsciously and Mulder couldn't help but kiss her again, fierce with need, trying to go slowly as his hands found their way down to her hips. Carefully, he hooked his fingers in the waistband on her pajama pants, dragging them down her legs. His stomach clenched again as he took in the sight of her lying there in nothing but her panties, a simple nude-colored pair that looked like light coffee against her pale cream skin.

Scully shivered, but not from cold; her entire body felt flushed with heat. She watched Mulder's eyes as they traveled down her body, feeling simultaneously powerful and vulnerable as she saw the reaction he had utterly failed to keep from showing on his face. He caught her staring and met her gaze, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that momentarily stopped her breath. She had seen the incredibly passionate side of her partner many times over their years together; in sorrow, in determination, in anger, and occasionally in happiness. But she'd never seen it so fully directed at her. It felt like a fire that would consume them both. He brought one hand to her cheek, leaning slowly to kiss her again, his love and desire and need for her fully unguarded for the first time.

Scully took his kiss and gave it back with heat and urgency, showing him that the desire was not only his. Not breaking apart from his lips, she reached down with steady hands to rid them of the last of their clothing. When their bodies tangled together she felt the fire that threatened to consume spread like lit gunpowder across her bare skin.

"God, Scully," Mulder half-moaned into her neck as she moved with him. Her hands ran up his sides to clutch at his back, urging for more as she silenced him with her lips. Her kisses were short and urgent, interrupted by panting breaths and gasps.

In the dark apartment, there was nothing but the steady tick of a clock, the glow of the fish tank, and the sounds of their quiet lovemaking.

To Mulder and Scully, there was nothing but the other's lips, their legs twined together, their hands in each other's hair. Nothing in the entire world.

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Author's Note:

Sorry this took so long again, guys! I was really struggling with how to do this chapter once I decided things had to get physical with them.

Still not sure if I love it or hate it.

PS this was originally going to keep going for a couple chapters after this point, but I almost like it ending here. (especially since I now have an original story in the works and it's sapping my inspiration) Thoughts?

If this does turn out to be the end, thanks for reading!


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